Kill! Kill! Kill!
by magicalteacakes
Summary: Since she was six, Santana saw a girl that no one else could see. Her name was Brittany, or at least, that's what she called herself. And when Brittany asks Santana to sacrifice everything to help her become real - who is Santana to refuse? Some violence.
1. Prologue

I was five years old, the day I saw her first.

It wasn't like I actually spoke to her – she was too far away, you see. I was at a fair with my family, and my older brother lifted me onto his shoulders so that I could see the ferric wheel. I watched it with awe at first – the way it spun round and round, a continuous cycle. I thought it was beautiful.

I thought it was beautiful until I saw her, anyway. Because when I saw her, nothing could compare in beauty.

There she was – climbing up the side of the ferric wheel with ease. That was the first thing I noticed, and I shouted out, pointed, yelled for someone to get her down. Then I noticed the eerie glow that emanated from her. Beautiful, yet eerie. Like the sound of thunder getting closer and closer. Then I snapped back to reality, I squirmed against my brother's arms – what was a young girl doing, climbing so high? That couldn't be safe! I shouted for him to get me down so that I could help her, but he held me fast.

'Santana, what are you talking about?' He lifted me off his shoulders so that he could look directly at my face. 'There's no one climbing the ferrice wheel. That's impossible.'

'There was a girl,' I insisted, trying to look the other way and see her again, but too many tall people were standing in front of me. 'There was, Max. I saw her.'

He watched me with some concern; put a hand to my forehead.

'Jeez, Santana, you're burning up,' he said worriedly. 'Come on, we're going home. I think this is all just too much excitement for you.'

I screamed, wriggling against his grip, trying to get free. That girl had to be around my age – I couldn't just leave her! No one else could see her because they weren't looking, but I saw her and I knew that she needed help.

My brother didn't hear my complaints. He held me fast as he turned and walked in the opposite direction. I craned my neck desperately and I saw the ferric wheel once again, but to my astonishment, the girl was gone.

_Did she fall down?,_ was my first thought. I lifted my head further, trying to see the ground below, but I saw nothing_. Oh no, please don't be hurt._

_Please._

It took me many weeks to accept that the girl wasn't real. I watched the news with some fervour, desperately listening for news of an injury, of maybe even a death. But I didn't hear anything. I'm not sure why I was so determined to prove that she wasn't a figment of my imagination; maybe to prove something to myself. I couldn't stop myself returning to the scene a few weeks later, watching the deserted ferric wheel and searching for some sign of the girl.

But she never appeared.

Eventually, I told myself I must have imagined her. I must have imagined her sleek, cat-like form climbing up the side of the ride.

_Just because it seemed real, _I told myself firmly, _doesn't mean it was._

There was a lot of other evidence to prove that she didn't exist. The way she glowed, angelically, perfectly. No one really glowed except in fairy tales, so she couldn't be real. Right?

I was a child, though, and I couldn't stop my passionate imagination from going off on a tangent, imagining her to be some kind of angel, or fairy princess – but deep down, I could feel the reality of the situation bubbling dangerously. She wasn't real, and that was that.

Four years later, I saw her for a second time – and this time, we spoke.

**Author's Note: I've had this idea for months but been unable to find characters to fit it. I know this is super short, don't worry the chapters will get longer. I've written a few chapters already so I'll be uploading them as much as I can. Please take a moment to review and tell me your thoughts, I really do appreciate it.**


	2. Only In Here

It was a cold day, when I next saw her. Christmas Eve, if I recall – I went for a walk on my own to get away from my over-excited little sister and my brother's new obsession with heavy metal music. It really didn't go with the Christmas mood.

So I was outside, walking aimlessly around the park which I'd recently taken refuge. It wasn't far from my house and seeing as I was almost eleven, my parents agreed that I was old enough to go there on my own.

I wrapped my scarf tightly around my neck as I sat down precariously on an ice-covered swing. I could hear the sounds of two laughing lovers coming closer – I watched them with some curiosity. I'd never felt love before. My parents told me I was too young to understand it. Yet, I saw it everywhere and sometimes I felt a little bit sad. A little bit lonely.

I'd long since given up seeing the ferris wheel girl – I hadn't even thought about her for years.

Which is why it was such a shock when I saw a sudden burst of that same glowing, golden light from high in a tree.

I felt my stomach jolt with memory – even the light, I recognised, but I didn't immediately register where from.

I jumped from the swing and hurried to the spot, pulling my jumper around me more tightly.

'H-hello?' I said nervously, looking up into the tree, half-curious, half-terrified.

I heard a sound, then. A sound that changed everything. _A laugh._

It tingled against my ears like the quietest of music and I felt a shiver run through me as I peered up through the branches of the oak to see the source of the sound.

And then I saw her – and the memory of that day at the fair came rushing back to me faster than a speeding bullet.

I took a step back, the power of her gaze as it met mine was almost overpowering.

'Hi,' she said, smiling.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't say anything. I'd lost the ability to do anything except stare, open-mouthed as she jumped from the high branches and hit the ground softly.

She looked at me, still smiling as I gazed upon her perfect features.

'Santana, is it?'

I felt my stomach turn over.

'Who are you?'

The words left my mouth before I'd even realised I'd spoken – she looked at her feet, almost shyly.

'Well, I'm whoever you want me to be really,' she said. 'I'm not real.'

I frowned. 'But you are real.'

'Only in here.' Her hand reached out as if to touch my chest, and I felt a warm sensation as her hand made contact.

And yet, it hadn't made contact. It was hovering where my chest was – where my heart was – and if she was human, I knew I would have felt her touch. But I couldn't feel it against my skin.

'Are... are you a ghost?'

'No,' she said, giggling. It made my knees feel weak, and I stepped back, only to find that I was out of reach of that warmth she emanated from her skin. 'I'm not a ghost. I'm whoever you want me to be. I'm everything... But I'm nothing.'

'I want a friend,' I said automatically.

She smiled. 'Well that's who I am then.'

I watched her closely, not feeling afraid. I should have felt some kind of fear – but, I didn't. I felt only curiosity.

'Do you have a name?'

'Not really,' she said, watching me. 'It changes a lot. Depending on who I'm with.'

'Do you not choose?'

'I can usually tell what my name is, when I'm with someone. You see, a name tells a lot about the person. And I am who you want me to be.'

'So... What's your name for me?'

She considered me for a second, her brow furrowed in sudden concentration.

'...Brittany,' she said eventually. 'I'm Brittany.'

She reached out a hand as if to shake mine, and I reached out mine only to find that I couldn't touch her. So instead, our hands floated centimetres away from one another.

'I saw you climbing the ferris wheel,' I said. 'When I was six, I think. Ages ago. I knew you were real.'

'I'm not real.'

I watched her. 'To me, then.'

'I was climbing that in order to get your attention. I've been looking for you for a while, Santana, and when I found you I knew I would have to make you notice me somehow.'

'Why?' I said, feeling a little overwhelmed.

'To help you,' she said, smiling.

'I don't need help,' I said hurriedly. 'I'm fine.'

'But you can see people who don't exist,' she said. 'You know that not everyone can do that. No one else can see me. You're not normal, Santana.'

'Yes I am.' The response came naturally – and it surprised me how little meaning the words had.

'No,' Brittany said. 'You're different from other people.'

'So... you're here to help me be normal again? But you're the one who's making me not normal.'

'I won't be the only one you see, Santana,' she said. 'And not all of us want to help you. I'm here to protect you from the others.'

'What do they want from me?'

'Whatever you want them to want from you.'

My head pounded. I didn't understand, and I told Brittany so, but she just laughed.

'It's too late for these talks,' she said. 'I must leave now. But I'll be back.'

'When?' I said, desperately.

'Whenever you need me.'

I watched her walk away smoothly. Softly. It made me wonder what she really was. And what she really wanted.

If I'd known then, what our futures would hold – well, maybe things would have been different. Far less innocent people would have been hurt. But I was young, and I was naive.

And believed every word Brittany poured into my open mouth.


	3. Startlingly Sapphire

I soon learned that Brittany knew everything.

Or at least, she knew everything I wanted to know. She said everything I wanted to hear – so you can tell why she soon became my most trusted friend.

In some ways, I envied my new friend for her perfection. But I knew that, as real as she was to me, she definitely wasn't human. But she was kind, and she was gentle. And she was a friend – and that's what I needed more than anything.

I soon found myself relying on her help more than anything – I listened to her advice, I did what she told me to do.

I never opened my eyes long enough to notice that I was slowly becoming a puppet, and Brittany held the strings.

No, I was too blinded by the beautiful, mysterious, imaginary friend I had created for myself. Imaginary? Or real? I no longer knew. I no longer _cared_.

I was eleven when I made the biggest mistake of my life – I trusted someone who wasn't Brittany.

It was a slip up, more than anything. My parents had been fighting as per usual, and I couldn't bare to listen to them anymore. I ran into the garden, crying, unsure of what to do.

So I called her name.

'Brittany!'

And there she was, faster than the speed of light.

'Santana,' she said softly, watching me with concern written in her features. 'You don't need to worry. Come on, I'll take you somewhere magnificent.'

She pointed into the trees behind my house – and without hesitation, I followed her, climbing over my garden fence and out into the wilderness, the light that surrounded her illuminating my path.

We stopped by a river after walking what felt like seconds. But I did not recognise where we were. How did I get so far away, so fast?

'Brittany, where are we?'

She sat down upon the grass beside the river, and I followed suit, sitting precariously beside her.

I could feel her eyes on me, and I turned to meet her's, smiling sadly.

'We can stay here for as long as you want,' she said soothingly.

And then she did something we'd learned to do, as a way of showing comfort – she'd reached out her pinky finger, and I'd reach out mine.

If we were both human, both real, then our pinkies might have linked. But my hand simply hovered with her's – I could not touch her.

It was something I'd learn to resent in the future, not being able to touch her. But at the time, it didn't matter so much – I could feel the wonderful warmth from her skin as we sat there, for seconds, or hours, or days. I wasn't sure.

Time went by extremely fast whenever I was looking into Brittany's startlingly sapphire eyes.

—-

It was morning by the time they found me.

Two police officers – tall, muscular, terrifying. They walked over, calling out to me, solid and powerful.

They helped me up and made me sit in the back of their police car.

'Santana, why did you run away from home?,' said one of them, leering over me as he leaned in the car window slightly.

'I didn't,' I said, confused. 'I didn't run away. I only walked for five minutes.'

'You're miles from your home, Santana. Your parents have been looking everywhere for you. They're very worried.'

'They didn't need to be,' I complained quietly. 'I'm fine.'

'The thing is, Santana,' he said, smiling, though his eyes were stony. 'You've been missing for almost a day now. Was there someone you were with? Someone you were meeting?'

'Well, yes,' I admitted.

'Who?' They asked. Too nosy.

'You wouldn't see her.'

'See her? Who is she?'

'She's not real,' I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

'So… Like an imaginary friend?'

'Something like that,' I said, smiling back just as stonily.

He watched me with some curiosity for a few moments, but then he turned and walked away.

I arrived back at my house within the hour, and I realised I must have walked a very long way. But time had gone so incredibly quickly, I could barely believe it.

The policemen told me to stay in the car, and the one who had been talking to me earlier went inside. I saw my mom talking to him feverishly through the kitchen window. She looked scared. He looked concerned.

After about ten minutes, he came back and took me inside.

He left soon after this, and my mom sat me down at the kitchen table, her eyes brimming with tears.

'Why did you run off, Santana?'

'I don't know,' I said, truthfully. 'You and dad were fighting.'

'So you just left? On your own?'

I watched her suspiciously, and I knew that the policeman had already conveyed my story of an imaginary friend to her. I knew she was waiting to hear it from me.

'I'm never on my own,' I murmured. And, as if summoned, Brittany appeared in the kitchen, as if from thin air. I looked over at her, and she smiled, nodding as if to tell me it was okay to continue.

'Who is she, Santana?'

'A girl,' I said, my eyes darting to Brittany, who walked over and stood behind me. It made me feel powerful… Less alone.

'And she's like, an imaginary friend?'

'Sort of,' I said. Brittany reached down and breathed softly against my neck. I felt my hairs stand on end and I had to repress a shiver.

My mom watched me, waiting for more of the story.

'She's real,' I said, and I heard Brittany exhale sharply. It was almost a hiss. 'To me,' I added hurriedly.

Brittany tended to get angry when I said she was real.

'Right…' Mom said uncertainly. 'Well, if she's helping you in some way…'

'She is,' I said. _You have no idea._

'Have you been… taking advice from her, in some way?'

'Tell her yes,' said the haunting voice of Brittany from behind me.

'Yes.'

My mom paused, considering me.

'I see,' she said. 'Because we got a phone call from your teacher this morning.'

My heart plummeted. 'What did she say?'

'Oh, just this and that,' my mom said, trying to sound casual. But I could hear anger bubbling just below the surface. 'She mentioned something about you bullying the other children. She said you had tried to climb the school building. Apparently, you pulled Quinn's hair in class today.'

'Mom,' I complained. 'I'm not seven anymore. Jeez, I only pulled her hair.'

But I felt worried. Yes, Brittany had told me to do all these things, but not without good reason! The other girls in my class were mean to me first. And Brittany had only wanted to see the view from the top of the school. And Quinn had been ignoring me. Brittany told me how to get her attention.

I suppose, deep down somewhere, I knew these things were wrong. But the thing was, it was extremely difficult to say no to Brittany.

Perhaps if I'd learned at such an early age, things would have ended differently. Perhaps I wouldn't have let Brittany take over so easily. But I had, and that was that. I'd fallen into the trap.

**Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed! Please, please review. The more reviews I get the more likely it is I'll update. Please? I'd love to hear your feedback.**


	4. Finally, I Held Her

I had just turned 13 when I made a friend who wasn't Brittany.

Her name was Quinn, and we hadn't always been friends. On Brittany's instructions, I had taunted her, been cruel to her, done everything in my power to make her life hell.

I wasn't sure why. Brittany told me that she'd have to get used to the pain of being who she was anyway. She said she was a target for bullies and all I was doing what toughening her up.

I wasn't sure, though. Even though I knew Brittany was only real inside my head, and that I had created her… It sometimes felt as though she had far too much of a mind of her own.

She was far too real, considering she was imaginary.

Which is why, as I started to doubt Brittany's cruel intentions, I began to see light shine from the chubby girl named Lucy Fabray, a girl who had tried to convince everyone to call her Quinn for a long time.

I was one of the few who did – I thought it suited her more. She wasn't really a Lucy kind of girl.

Our friendship sprung up after I'd had what you might call a fight with Brittany. During class, she would stand behind me and whisper instructions in my ear, and although sometimes they shocked me, I usually did them. I wanted Brittany's happiness more than anything, though I wasn't sure why at the time.

So, on one cold September morning, it was no surprise to me when I felt rather than heard Brittany, her hands running up and down my back soothingly. Although I couldn't really feel her touch, I felt the familiar warmth and it turned me to jelly. I wondered if she knew it had this effect on me, because she almost always did this before telling me what to do.

'Santana,' she whispered softly. 'I heard Quinn calling you names in the hall earlier. They weren't nice names. I think she should be taught a lesson.'

'Why,' I whispered back. I did not exactly enjoy being cruel – I would do it if Brittany wanted me to, but I didn't enjoy it.

'I only want the best for you, Santana,' she whispered. Her voice was silky as always. 'I'm here to protect you. But I can't do these things myself. I can only show you the way.'

My eyes narrowed. What if I didn't want to be mean anymore?

I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as I looked back down at my work and carried on.

'Santana,' Brittany repeated. 'What's wrong?'

'I don't want to be cruel to people anymore,' I whispered back, still looking at my work.

'You don't,' she said, as if tasting the words on her tongue. 'I see.'

And then she was gone. I felt myself relaxing again, falling back into the routine of the school day. I had completely forgotten about my brief rebellion until that evening, when Brittany seemed to have disappeared.

I called for her, but she never appeared. I could feel myself getting worried – I knew nothing could harm her, but I still feared for her safety.

'Brittany,' I almost groaned as I watched out my bedroom window. 'Where are you?'

She didn't appear.

_So much for being the person I want you to be, _I thought bitterly, sitting down on my bed.

I reached for my phone, and opened contacts. I just needed someone to talk to, anyone – even Lucy Quinn Fabray would be welcome right now.

I paused.

My finger hovered over the call button as I reached her name. I had acquired her mobile number off a friend – Brittany had told me I might need it later. Probably for some cruel purpose, I thought bitterly.

I pressed Call, listening to the steady ringing off the phone and wondering why I was doing this.

'Hello?'

My heart hammered. The thought of making a friend who wasn't Brittany – the thought of trusting someone who was actually real… It scared me.

'Uh, hi,' I said nervously. I heard Quinn inhale sharply.

'Santana?'

'Yeah, it's me,' I said. 'Listen, Quinn, I was wondering if you wanted to come round for a sleepover tonight.'

There was silence on the other end. I half expected her to hang up.

But she didn't. 'Sure.'

My heart leaped. Finally, someone I could look to in times of need. Someone who wasn't a figment of my imagination. Someone who wasn't just a dream.

'Okay, you know where my house is, right?'

'Yeah, I came to your birthday party when we were seven. My mom will know where it is. I'll just ask her and then I'll be over in like, 10 minutes.'

I felt the excitement building as I stood up, hurrying around my room, desperately trying to tidy it.

I heard the doorbell ring and I leaped down the stairs, two at a time, pulling open the door to reveal a shy-looking Quinn.

'Hi,' I said sweetly, pulling her inside.

'Hi,' she replied, slightly red in the face.

'Is it cold outside?' I asked, noticing the flush in her cheeks.

'Uh, yeah,' she said, smiling. 'Sure it is.'

We stood in silence for a few seconds – not an uncomfortable silence, though. A soft silence.

'Who's this, then, Santana?' My mom came rushing through, ringing Quinn's hand and looking happily from me to her, and back again.

'Well, Santana, now you have a friend and all…' I glared at her. Quinn giggled. 'Well I just thought you would start spending less time in your room, that's all.'

I rolled my eyes, and took Quinn's hand in my own. Her fingers interlocked with mine and I led her up the stairs, not looking back to see my mom's pleased expression.

When we reached my room, I lead her inside, our hands still intertwined. It made my stomach turn over – I could actually touch her. I couldn't touch Brittany.

But, hastily, I pushed thoughts of Brittany to the back of my mind and concentrated on the girl in front of me, who was grinning.

'What did you mom mean, about you spending too much time in your room?'

I blushed a little.

'Oh, nothing, I just…' I shrugged. 'Like to be alone sometimes.'

'You're always alone at school too,' Quinn pointed out. 'You're always on the swings… Talking to yourself.'

I frowned angrily. 'I don't talk to myself.'

'Yes you do, I've seen you –'

'No,' I said firmly. 'I'm talking to someone. It's not my fault that you can't see her.'

She looked suddenly hurt. 'Oh, like an imaginary friend?'

'Sort of,' I hesitated. 'She's too real to be imaginary though.'

Quinn moved closer so that our faces were inches apart. She looked straight into my eyes, straight into my soul.

'Can I tell you a secret?'

'Sure,' I whispered, slightly nervous.

She leaned in so that her mouth was millimetres from my ear – I could feel the hairs on my neck standing up. 'This isn't Quinn.'

My stomach turned over.

'Wh-what?'

I felt her lips attach to my neck and I squeaked loudly, pushing her off.

'Q-Quinn! What the hell are you –'

Quinn stumbled and then looked up at me, her eyes full of confusion.

'What just happened?'

I frowned at her. 'Um, you just kissed me.'

Her eyes widened. 'No I didn't. That wasn't me.'

'Yes, it was, you just came over here, told me you weren't Quinn and kissed my neck and –'

'So why are the last five minutes a blur? What the hell just happened?'

I watched her with wide eyes, my mind was a mess all of a sudden. Quinn just kissed me, and then when I pulled her off me, she forgot it had happened.

_This isn't Quinn._

Suddenly, something clicked into place.

'B-Brittany!'

Quinn stared. 'Uh, no, my name's Quinn, not Britt –'

'Touch me again,' I said breathlessly.

Her eyes widened and she backed away. 'No fricking way, Lopez.'

I ran at her, grasping her shoulders and pulling her into a forceful embrace.

'Brittany?' I whispered, holding her tight.

'Guilty,' said Quinn's voice, but I could hear Brittany's silky tones underneath.

'Oh my God,' I said, wrapping my arms around her neck. 'Brittany… I'm touching you.'

'I know,' she said, but she sounded a little sad.

'I'm sorry,' I said hurriedly. 'I'm sorry about earlier. I'm sorry.'

She said nothing, but remained limp in my arms.

I could feel tears pricking my arms – I was finally able to reach out and touch my best friend.

'I want to stay like this forever.'

It wasn't me who whispered those words – it was Brittany. Throught Quinn's mouth.

'Me too,' I whispered softly.

Then I remembered something.

'Why did you kiss me, Britt?'

I felt her shrug a little in my arms. 'Felt like it.'

'You just wanted to scare me, didn't you,' I chuckled tearfully.

She hesitated. 'Yeah,' she said. 'Sure. Whatever you say.'

I frowned, but pushed the thoughts from my mind. I had Brittany in my arms, and that was all that mattered. It didn't matter that Quinn would resurface ten minutes later, wondering what on earth had just happened, and it didn't matter that I would lie and tell her that I just wasn't feeling well. _Nothing_ mattered, in that moment, except the fact that Brittany could feel my touch, and I could feel her's.

**Author's Note: I know, Brittany's evil, right? Most people would expect Santana to be the evil one, but it's much more interesting this way. I update quicker when I get more reviews and favourites, so please. If you like this, review. If you don't like this, review anyway. Thanks.**


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